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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30081498">Tear Down the Village Walls</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/vilepie/pseuds/vilepie'>vilepie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Eventual Relationships, First Meetings, Gen, M/M, Tags May Change</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:15:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,251</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30081498</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/vilepie/pseuds/vilepie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tolys didn't speak much anymore, but that man's voice never ceased. Speaking words of hope, of love, of heaven, of joy. He shared tales of destruction, and he did so with a smile.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Estonia/Lithuania (Hetalia)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Tear Down the Village Walls</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The sprigs of grass sprouting from beneath beat down layers of pine straw, and dead leaves moved to accommodate his fingers, the forest floor willingly being combed through for it knew it would return to its prior stance once the tender touch was removed. The only area Tolys couldn’t possibly permit to recover was where he sat, feet, and thighs flattening the terrain. Bumps still littered the rest of the forest floor, roots pressing against the peat that shielded them. Two larger roots shot past the natural barrier, forming a bowl shape whose center was laden with moss soft enough for Tolys to deem it a perfect natural chair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The roots were one of a kind, the rest aimlessly snaking about with no prey to capture. Tolys had been drawn in, the venom sweet, and alluring, enough so to keep him returning whenever the chance presented itself. Peaceful, the nature was in contrast with the town, the castle specifically carrying its own set of chaotic habits. Birds were rare to be heard, carriages, and shouts polluting the air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wretched noise created a dome over the town, the forest it was embedded in protected from any harm provided Tolys strayed as far as possible from the one route, a path purposefully marked by both pounded, and unscathed rocks, in, and out of the village. Out was where he longed to be, yet was no longer allowed. His escape wasn’t a path, rather being a multitude of spots scattered about the mixes of tree species. A personal favourite was anywhere he could slink away into ankle high water, or where he could lay, speckled by the minimal light that dared to offer its warmth past the canopy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The favourites, however, were reserved, tucked away for when he had ample time to spare. Today Tolys had run, snagging a place between the first tree he could trust. Trust to provide comfort, and trust to keep him hidden away, not urging him to return from where he had come. Tolys didn’t need a reminder, nor a tree to order him to go home, whatever type of home his bed was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The need for a break felt selfish, sparking a forest fire of guilt that couldn’t be put out. It raged, even when he was supposed to be where he could feel joy, even such happiness as faint as the breeze weaving through the multitude tree trunks. Little knowledge he had, but what he did know had no means of quenching the thirst of crackling branches, breaking resolve. When he wasn’t scurrying around, busying himself with either work, or fear, whoever lingered too close to the wailing task at hand was tossed into the grips of whatever inflicted such gruesome wounds upon a mere chore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the way things were, no change caring to sweep away the pain. It wasn’t awful, either, everything that befell Tolys, and those around him coming in with the details of their mission. It didn’t make it any more bearable, though, and that didn’t alleviate the overwhelming thoughts that plagued him every moment he had time to sit, and think. Thinking in itself brought sores, the more literal kind springing up around his fingers whenever his nails sliced too deep. Other times holes sprung up in his attire, not always from work, but from the way Tolys couldn’t help but irritate the seams. His mind wasn’t the only to suffer, the grass subject to his torment. Of course others would say anything was better, yet the fire engulfed more ground when he caught himself playing against nature.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A muffled yelp cut through the air just as his fingernails, as sharp as the words spoken to him by others, and never to be trimmed, cut through an innocent blade of grass. Tolys sighed, drawing his right hand away from the dirt, and back into his lap to rejoin his left. His hands were imprisoned between his thighs, and his chest, his knees being tucked as close to his face as they could possibly imagine. As small, and insignificant as he longed to be, wishing to be engulfed by the moss he, and his feet sat upon. Perhaps a better fate would be to fade into the tree his back, and now his head, leaned upon; trees were more difficult to uproot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sting didn’t register much anymore, but the feeling of blood trailing down his hand provided a reason for his fingers to pause before finding something else to work at. If Tolys had found water, he could dip more than just his feet into the soothing currents of the creek, he could wash away what was certain to stain his nail beds. That wasn’t of the highest importance, though, the idea morphing into that of dipping his hands into the water, and allowing it to sit between his interlocked fingers before drawing nearer to his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Had his throat not been dry enough without the care of a brook, Tolys would’ve found himself drooling over the mere thought of a drink before his fantasies shifted. There was always the chance he could’ve found berries lining the banks, the kind he saw images of people eating in the endless supply of data books, as far as he was informed, he had been ordered to organize. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was one job he didn’t mind as much as the rest tossed his way in the span of a day. Certainly people could find him in the library, but rarer it was for anyone to seek him out, much less speak to him. Buried in the depths of the castle, the library was meant to be secure, yet fear always had its hands clamping down on his neck when he was inside of the walls. Here, however, was different in many other aspects, including the security, and privacy that embraced him gently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nature was always loving, even when it quite literally ruffled his hair, the shifting of his head causing bark to entangle his brunette tresses. There was no care in the movement, his hand nearing his head until the blood slipped further, now cascading across his palm. Tolys reversed his action, instead bringing his hand towards his face, examining what built a barrier between him, and the cleanliness of his hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dirt was always an option, yet soil clinging onto the folds of skin didn’t sound desirable. An idea, and one that didn’t sound too bad had his hand flying upwards, surpassing his head. Tolys arched his back, fingers grabbing at the leaves taunting him, hanging right above him, but refusing to come to his aid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If my questioning doesn’t bother, might I ask the reason behind your desperate need for a leaf?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words didn't even register, but the fact that anything was being spoken yet again derailed his plans. Tolys froze, the chill overtaking the blaze of guilt, and replacing it with frosty fear. He didn’t dare bring his hands back down, arms bent, and still reaching, but the ache didn’t even break through the ice, and neither did the vision of his hands, and the trees in front of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only things willing to combat the cold were the tears, warm, and pathetic, gathering near the corner of his eyes. Tolys didn’t even dare to breathe, any air he could get surely only to come in frantic gasps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When words failed him moments later, his assumptions proved to be correct. If this man didn’t kill him, embarrassment would.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>whooo! i have plans for this fic, and i'm actually really excited seeing as i've never committed to a multichapter fic before. i was listening to the song "soldier, poet, king" when the idea hit me, and its been eating away at me for weeks now. the first chapter is kinda short, but i'm hoping they'll get longer as i go. have a great day! :D</p></blockquote></div></div>
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